A Taste of Budapest
by XDarkxoxNightX
Summary: Agent William Brandt has dreams about a certain green-eyed, red-haired woman and a mysterious scar on his chest. On a mission to Budapest Brandt realizes that his life is not what it seems, and this dream woman may not be a dream after all. Clintasha/BlackHawk
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Again everybody! I'm writing this because xdarkxoxnightx . tumblr post/30607015343#notes-container (just get rid of the spaces around the periods and add a . com) and I thought it was a cool idea. I haven't seen Mission Impossible in a really long time so sorry if some of my facts are off. Thank you for reading!**

**Rated M because there will be smut in future chapters- although this chapter I would rate T**

**Most of the team are my OCs sorry if they bother you but hey they work **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything Marvel or Mission Impossible**

* * *

_A faint sweet smell surrounded the two of them. He ran his rough hands against her soft delicate skin. Their lips brushed, loving and desperate. He could hear her giggle, nervously happy, a tantalizing sound. She pushed up closer to him, shoving sheets out of the way as her lips met his once again. He moaned, she was so perfect and right at his finger tips. He dragged her legs back around him, needing to be with her once more. Her green eyes flicked into his; she was his..._

William Brandt woke up, a feverish sweat covering his body. He rubbed his head, for the last five years this woman has haunted his dreams. This beautiful, red headed, wonderful, warm, woman was all he thought about. "Good morning," he mumbled, glancing under his sheets at his member. He sighed, this happened every time. The only thing he could do was take a cold shower.

After a quick shower to clean up and calm down his member, he emerged from the bathroom to the sound of pounding on his door. He rolled his eyes this new team was a pain in the ass. There was something abrasive about this team, something that just didn't fit. He knew what a functional team... partnership, was supposed to be like, and this was not it.

"Get dressed, Brandt, we have a long day ahead of us," Jennifer Rasher barged through his door, her eyes lingering a little too long on his naked figure. "Maybe you've been distracted, Willy," She looked down between his legs, clearly not saying his name, "But we're breaking into a top secret organization, remember?"

Brandt blushed, uncomfortable around his partner. She had this horrible tendency to completely disregard boundaries.

"You've been briefed, I assume?" Jenny Rasher, the most condescending woman Will Brandt has ever met.

Brandt nodded, quickly throwing on his boxers and pants. "Did you get our equipment?"

She shrugged and took off into his bathroom, "Should be in the car, come on, slow poke" She wiped the traced of Brandt from the room and walked out. Brandt rolled his eyes, isn't she a walk in the park.

* * *

"Infamous weapons dealer, known only by the letter Z, is in Budapest," Brandt leaned his head against the wall of the van. His team sat listening to Jenny Rasher reiterate the mission. The team was composed of four people, Brant, Rasher, a ginger named George Hanish, the hacker, and an operative named Sierra Walsh. "IMF knows for sure he will be at a party with the Hungary elite-" Hanish chuckled, everyone rolled their eyes. "We will take him out and find his base of operations. Clear?" Rasher finished without skipping a beat.

"This sounds too easy," Walsh breathed, she knew the hard part was coming.

"We received Intel that there was another group interested in capturing Z, we need to beat them to it," Rasher said, arms folded.

"And there it is," Walsh groaned.

Rasher threw a dress at Walsh, "I need you to hack into the surveillance, George, no one can know we're there. The other agency may have the surveillance tapped. They can't see us; we don't know if they are hostile."

"Well who are they?" Hanish demanded, only half paying attention. Walsh was changing into a dress.

Rasher fumbled through her files a little, "We're not sure who they are but we did get the abbreviation S.H.I.E.L.D."

_Explosions rattled his ears, "Come on, Clint," a soft whisper, pushing his lips into a smile. He drew his arm back and sent one shot directly hitting the enemy. He turned to the green-eyed woman, she smirked at him._

"Will," Rasher insisted, "Focus, we need you."

Brandt snapped back towards Rasher. She handed him a nicer suit, "suit up," Brandt laughed somehow those words were familiar. He stripped just as Walsh had done before and as Rasher was doing now. They changed clothes quickly, the mission only fifteen minutes away. The group sat in silence, with the exceptions of the beeping coming from a computer because of whatever Hanish was doing.

Brandt was about to button his shirt when he heard, "How did you get that scar?" Walsh eyed Brandt's chest, following a dent in his chest, gruesome yet clean.

_"I'm sorry, Clint,"_ The phrase rang through Brandt's head like a distant whisper. Brandt turned his head to Walsh gingerly, expecting to see the green-eyed firecracker of a woman. "What?" he demanded.

"I said I'm sorry," Walsh apologized, "I didn't know it was a touchy subject," It be honest it wasn't. The scar had been there for as long as Brandt could remember. He touched two fingers to the scar, "I've always had it," the air stiffened, for some reason the words felt like a lie. Awkward silence fell around the group again as Brandt finished putting on his suit.

"Ready?" Rasher looked elegant and delicate in her aqua silk dress. She smiled, dangerously reassuring, "Lets get this party started," The car door slid open to the sight of the back of a building. "Well I was not expecting this," Hanish bemused.

"We can't very well go to the front in a beat up black van, now can we?" Walsh jokingly punched Hanish on the shoulder, he made an 'ow' sound and insulted Walsh who in turn fired her own insults back, they were basically an old married couple. Rasher and Brandt laughed.

* * *

Whatever Brandt expected the ballroom to look like, it was not this. Book selves lined the walls, a smooth jazz band in the corner, cute tables rested along the two longer walls, small cute candles the only thing on them. Now as much as this looked like a cute book shop from a romantic comedy this was still a sizable ballroom. Thousands of people swam in this sea of make up and designer clothing.

"Tell me again how we are going to find this Z guy?" Brandt's eyes scanning faces and body typed across the room to see if he could find a match.

"Look for a brooch of a lion," Rasher explained.

"Do you realize how unhelpful that is?" Hanish was almost more annoying in an earpiece than he was normally.

"Just be quite an watch out backs, George," Rasher placed her hand on Brandt's arm, "Sierra, are you in place?" Walsh let out a soft grunt and Brandt and Rasher started to walk around and mingle.

After a few minutes they heard, "I've spotted him, your six o'clock," Walsh waited a few seconds, "Do I approach?"

"No, he doesn't respond to other people's advances," Rasher turned to Brandt, "Sorry I forgot I had to do this," Rasher pressed her lips to his, rather forcefully. Brandt pushed against her arms to no avail. Her tongue slipped trough his teeth for just a moment before she lowered herself from him.

"Jenny, what the hell-" Brandt hissed only to be interrupted by a man wearing an ornamented lion brooch.

"I'd hate to cut in but may I have a dance with this lovely lady?" Z spoke to Brandt but he faced Rasher, cutting off the line of sight between the two. Z was a tall man, six foot two at least, he had curly brown-red hair, perhaps he was Scottish. He extended his hand towards Rasher she drew out her most flirtatious smile and let herself be taken by the man to the dance floor.

"I'm glad she only told us half of the plan," Walsh whispered appearing behind Brandt.

Brandt shook his head, shaking off the kiss, "Now we just have to wait, I'll go into position, try to spot out the competition."

Walsh nodded as Brandt excused himself to the restroom. He actually just went to lay in wait in the hall.

_She giggled a broad smile across her face which he had barely seen in all his year of knowing her. She sat in a relatively conservative dress considering what she normally wore, what she normally had to wear. They were only in a simple book cafe, drinking coffee and talking. They sat at a round table a small candle flickering between them. Maybe this is what you would call a date. If it really was a date it was the first one he had been on since joining S.H.E.I.L.D. Besides after meeting this woman, why would he want to date anyone else? _

"This corridor is exceptionally beautiful," Rasher said down the hall, Brandt's cue. He pounced into action. Brandt swiftly nailed the guy behind the legs and brought him to his knees.

"Hello Mr. Z, meet my gun," Brandt breathed quietly, "Now come with me quietly and I will not shoot."

Z stood and Brandt took him to the back, to the van where Hansih lay in wait. Rasher stayed behind to pull Walsh out before anything got messier.

"What are you doing here?" A woman with with shoulder length red hair scowled.

"Well hello there," Rasher smirked, she knew that voice. She knew it very well, "I assume you saw the whole show do down?"

The woman tensed, "What's Clint doing here?"

"I don't know who you're talking about," Rasher teased. _  
_

"What are you and," the woman hesitated, "_William Brandt_ doing in Budapest with Z?" She hissed his name.

"My_ partner_ and I are in Budapest for official business. What are you, Natalia Romanova, _the Black Widow_, going to do about it?" Rasher circled Romanoff like a hawk. Rasher knew that Romanoff was thinking, she knew the worst possible scenarios were running through her head. She knew what her kiss with Brandt made Romanoff think. "We really should get George to be a better look out," Rasher taunted, the Black Widow had seen exactly what Rasher had wanted her to. No more, no less.

"Oh! Sierra, we really must go to the restroom," Walsh looked skeptically to the two women as Rasher sauntered towards her.

"Why are you talking like that?" Walsh asked, sharp as always.

"It was great to see you again, Natie," Rasher laughed lightly and dragged Walsh from the scene, leaving a pissed off spider by herself.

"It had to be Budapest," Romanoff hissed, "It just _had_ to be."

* * *

**Who is William Brandt? What happened between this green-eyed firecracker of a woman and Brandt? What REALLY happened in Budapest? **

**Please review and tell me how I did I love them and I'll probably write more often if you do :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again!**

**This chapter is rated M for some light smut at the end.**

**Yay.**

* * *

"Now tell me where it is," Brandt commanded.

Z spat blood at Brandt's feet, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brandt yanked his arm back, fingers twitching into a fist, waiting to tackle Z's face until it looked like lunch meat when he was interrupted, "Will, we have to go," Agent Rasher boarded the van, ripping he skirt on the door. Walsh followed closely behind.

"What about George?" Brandt questioned, not willing to leave a teammate behind, an old habit he picked up from god knows where.

"No time, lets go," Brandt hesitated. He glanced down at the crazy maybe-Scottish man tied to a chair. Rasher hissed, "_Now, _Brandt"

"I don't understand why wescant wait for George, I'm not about to leave behind a comrade without seriously great reason," Brandt spoke into his mic, "George can you hear me? Get back to the van, now,"

It was too late, two shots fired, one hitting the glass window on the side of the van, one hitting the tire. The team went into defensive offense, Walsh stayed in the van with Z while Brandt and Rasher went on the attack. The two stepped out of the van, into the parking lot behind the building. Their footsteps were inaudible as they move around. They heard Walsh tell Hanish to stay where he was. City sounds lit up the background.

A sudden electric shock knocked Rasher off her feet. She lay on her side, teeth clenched, curled in a ball. Brandt ran to her kneeling down to see what had happened. His concern blocked his rational, he forgot what was around him. He couldn't take loosing a teammate. He couldn't do it. He couldn't protect her the first time and now... Brandt didn't know. He heard a soft click behind him.

Brandt sprung to his feet, gun pointed at the person behind him.

"Brandt," the corner of her lipsticked mouth curved up slightly. Brandt's arms lowered just slightly. He knew this woman facing him, red hair, green eyes. God, she looked great. She wore a tight red dress, cutting down low on her cleavage. What he wouldn't give to peel it off her. His gaze found it's way to her arm, a gauntlet sat there, out of place from her dress but it reminded him of what was happening. He raised his gun again. "I need Z," she said.

"You're who S.H.E.I.L.D sent, huh?" Brandt mocked.

The woman giggled, bittersweet, a tantalizing sound. "All I need is Z, Brandt."

"You're not getting him," Brandt snarled.

"I don't want to hurt you, Brandt."

"You'll have to if you want Z"

They stood there, air frozen between the two agents, a standoff. A strange sense of deja vu settled in the bottom of Brandt's stomach. the woman slowly raised the arm without the gauntlet to her mouth, "Coulson we have an issue," She never once took her gaze off Brandt. She lowered her arm, "We don't have time for this Brandt. Step out of the way,"

Somehow Brant couldn't help but bitterly chuckle, "Make me."

The woman launched herself at Brandt, lunging for his head. Brandt managed to dodge and throw a punch at her side. The woman acted like she didn't even notice the hit. Brandt heard the woman swear, "you made me." Brandt pointed his gun at her she shook her head, he couldn't tell if she was angry or sad. The machine on her wrist flared up. And electric current ran through Brandt's body, head to toe. It tingled through his finger tips but fried his insides.

_"I'm sorry, Clint_," The woman whispered in the most familiar way. Brandt's eyes shut, his mind left to fold in on itself.

* * *

A soft light drifted through the window, highlighting the scene of two agents laying in bed, practically naked. "Stop squirming, Tasha," Natasha Romanoff's hair tickled Clint Barton's neck as she snuggled into his chest. His calloused hand stroked back Natasha's hair. "I liked it long," He joked.

Natasha placed a gentle kiss on Clint's chin. "It was getting in the way," Clint of feel her smile on his skin. Her lips traced his collarbone, down his sternum, down, down, until she reached his boxer shorts. Her hand slid the fabric down just a little bit, her lips following the exposed skin.

"Wait Nat," Barton tried to argue but lost his voice as she gave his boxers another yank. "_Natasha_," He pushed her up as he sat on the bed. the look in her eyes for a split second crushed him, hurt and rejected. "Nat, I don't want..." He paused waiting for the right words to form in his mouth. "I don't think this," No that wasn't the right phrasing either, "I just don't want-"

"Me?" Natasha whispered, looking down at the bed sheets, fingers shaking.

Clint's hands embraced Natasha's face, pulling her eyes level to his. She looked sad, in a way in which there were no there words to describe it. She looked like a little girl who had her red balloon swept away by the wind. "No, no, don't you ever think that. I don't want this sex thing," Clint let out a breath, those weren't the right words either. "I want to be with you, but not as fuck buddies."

Natasha wasn't satisfied with that answer. She sat there eyes questioning her lover, confused.

"Nat, I don't just want to be that guy you sleep with. I want to be the person you go home to. I want to be your best friend. I want to be the first person you turn to. I want to be the only person who sees your sleeping face, and to wake you up in the mornings. I want to be your..."

"Boyfriend," A grin had broken out on Natasha's face. "It's so cheesy," the two agents broke out into laughter, a mutual understanding, acceptance on both ends.

"Thank god," Clint pulled Natasha's arm, yanking her back on top of him as they tumbled back into bed. A new sense of closeness drove the two. Natasha's lips crashed into Clint's, a soft action in comparison to how hard she was gripping his shoulders. Clint's hands moved to her already bare breasts, he rubbed softly not wanting to go as fast as last time. Natasha, however, had an entirely different agenda. She sent her hand to find the archer's deadliest weapon. Her hand slipped down under his boxers. She smiled into his lips, he was already hard.

Clint rolled over on top of Natasha, pulling her hand from his underwear. He kissed her neck moving down towards her breast. He was soft, a gentle loving touch, something the Black Widow wasn't used to. Their other "sessions" were hungry animal-like clawing at each other. This was different. As Clint moved towards Natasha's nether regions she couldn't help but think about how different this felt, how good it felt. A soft moan escaped her lips. There was something about the rhythmic way Clint tongue was swirling around that was much more sensual than all the sex in her life had felt before. As her hips shuttered, back arcing she cried out, "_Clint, Clint,"_ her hands grabbed the sheets around her, "Clint" this time her cries were met with her lover's lips.

"I'm here, Tasha, I'll always be here."

* * *

Brandt's eye's flew open. He flung himself from the bed in which he was resting. He felt around the minuscule room for a weapon, finding none he clung to the wall, inspecting this unknown habitat.

"You're finally awake, I was getting worried, " there was a light hint of humor in the woman's voice.

"Where am I?" Brandt hissed "Who are you?"

The woman's face drooped, "You don't remember?" She hovered by the door.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Brandt insisted.

"One hint, Budapest," The woman gave him a sad smile and slipped out of the room, locking it shut behind her.

* * *

**Okay now really, who is William Brandt and what does he have to do with Clint Barton? What happened in Budapest? **

**Hurray for smut! I'll write a more in depth one later but here's your first little taste. ;)**

**Please review and tell me how I did or any suggestions or just anything I love feedback **

**Thank you for reading **


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